The only thing harder than being a saint in the city is being a Philly sports fan in New Jersey.

You have no idea how much grief I get at work for admitting to being a fan of the Phillies, Eagles, 76ers and Flyers.

"You live in Jersey. How can you root for a Philly team?" is a common question.

"You have to be Yankees or Mets, or Devils or Rangers," is another choice comment.

"This is North Jersey. How can you wear that?" a colleague says, spotting my Phillies cap.

Most of the people spouting such inanities are originally from New York or some other state, which means they have no business weighing in on anything to do with New Jersey.

This is what I know: The Giants and Jets, who play in Jersey, have "New York" in front of their names, the Knicks play in New York, and there are more kids in the average Girl Scout troop than there are Nets fans. And the self-proclaimed "Jersey's Team," the New Jersey Devils, aren't even from New Jersey. Does everyone forget they started in Colorado?

Philly sports teams are from Philly, always have been, and their millions of fans spill into South Jersey. Anything south of Trenton, or Seaside -- call it the I-195 line -- is all Philly.

Don't you be bringing your blue Giants jerseys or red Devils jerseys down here. More of the state, geographically, is Philly sports territory than New York. I get looks of amazement when I say this, but there's a lot more state south of Trenton than there is north of it. Look at a map if you don't believe me.

"But no one lives down there," a colleague once said.

No one lives down there? Add it to the epic-length list of South Jersey stereotypes. South Jersey is all Philly, all the time, but you wouldn't know it looking at the cable channel lineup in southern Ocean County, where I live. I get one Philly sports station -- and four New York sports stations. To add insult to injury, they removed the CBS Philly affiliate from the basic package about a year ago, which means one less NFL game on Sunday. What did we get in its place? A second QVC channel. Huh?

I was born in Trenton, and like any faithful son of the state capitol, grew up a Philly sports fan. It was part of your DNA. Yankees? Mets? Who were they? Little has changed.

The local newspapers devote way more ink to Philly teams than to any of the New York teams. The Yankees' Double A farm team, the Thunder, plays in Trenton. Good for them; it's still a Philly sports town.

As a Philly sports fan, you spend most of your time trying to correct all the stereotypes and cliches -- we're the worst/most obnoxious/least intelligent fans in sports. The Eagles especially. We once threw snowballs at Santa Claus (as if this has happened nowhere else).

Okay, for several years running we did have a judge hold court inside the old Veterans Stadium during Eagles games, which undoubtedly was a NFL first.

Are Eagles fans the rowdiest fans in the NFL? Guilty as charged.

We are lovable losers, and losing is what we do best. The Phillies are the losingest franchise in professional sports history -- no other team, in any sport, has lost more games. The Flyers last won the Stanley Cup in 1975. The 76ers' last championship was in 1983. The Eagles have never won a Super Bowl, although they have won three NFL championships, in 1948, 1949 and 1960. The mere mention of those titles always results in the same derisive comments from Giants and Cowboys fans: "But how many rings do you have?" As in Super Bowl rings.

I got your rings right here.

A friend proclaims to be a die-hard Phillies and Cowboys fan. This is what is known in the business as a bandwagon jumper, or complete loser. You cannot be a true Philly sports fan and root for the Cowboys. They are the great sports Satan. Eagles-Giants is the more natural rivalry, but the Cowboys are the team you want to beat -- no, humiliate.

Every so often, like once in a lifetime, there is redemption. I watched the first round of last year's Major League Baseball playoffs on a road trip out west -- that was me screaming from a hotel room in Prescott, Ariz. when Shane Victorino hit the grand slam off C.C. Sabathia of the Brewers.

I watched the second round in Tampa, Fla.-- that was me pumping my fists at the bar when Brett Myers had that incredible at-bat against Dodgers pitcher Chad Billingsley in game two of the NLCS (National League Championship Series).

And that was me, tears streaming down my face driving down the Parkway, as I heard the late great Harry Kalas call the final pitch -- STRUCK HIM OUT! -- in Game Five of the 2008 World Series between the Rays and the Phillies.

The world champion Phillies. I didn't rub it in at work at The Star-Ledger, where I am surrounded by Mets fans.

In fact, I didn't say anything at all the day after, just let my Phillies cap do the talking.

"You're not like most Phillies fans," a colleague said. Oh, yes, I am. Maybe not as obnoxious or as inebriated, but I bleed red (Phillies) and green (Eagles) and black (76ers) and orange and black (Flyers) with the best of them.

I'm from Trenton, and I live in South Jersey, which means Philly rules. Don't you ever forget it, North Jersey. Get those stinkin' Giants and Jets jerseys and Mets and Yankees uniforms outta here.